Bits and Bobs of Bagginses
by Melylott S. Banks
Summary: Various ficlets previously posted on my LJ. Pre and post quest, movie and book verse. Reviews welcomed!


Bits and Bobs of Bagginses  
  
First Words  
  
"Come on, Ellie-lass, say Da! You can do it!" Sam encouraged, as he watched his baby daughter babble aimlessly in delight. Rosie laughed.  
  
"I don't think you're going to get anything out of her today, love. You've been trying for hours!" She clucked her tongue in amusement, and Sam sighed.  
  
"I know, Rosie, but I really think she's almost there," he replied hopefully, as his wife shook her curly head in amusement. At that moment, they turned in unison. A knock had sounded on the door of Number Three Bagshot Row, and Rosie hurried to open it, while Sam continued his attempts.  
  
"Mr. Frodo! What a wonderful surprise! How are you feeling?" Asked Rosie in concern. Frodo sniffed, and laughed, entering the small hobbit hole.  
  
"Oh, you know. Just one of my dreadful summer colds that won't go away," he shook his head. Rosie frowned. "You should be in bed, beggin' your pardon, Mr. Frodo. Only you could go gettin' yourself sick in the summer, sir." Frodo smiled.  
  
"I assure you I'll be fine, Rosie-love. Being cooped up in that big smial alone is just making me feel worse," he sighed. "Anyhow, I missed all of you, especially Ellie." The little girl smiled at the mention of her name, and toddled over to her favorite uncle with a cry of glee, gold curls bouncing, as she was swept up in a hug. Sam walked over to join them.  
  
"Feelin' better, Mr. Frodo?" Asked Sam. Frodo smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "Much better, Sam," he replied, smiling at the bouncing child in his arms.  
  
Much to Frodo's amusement, Sam explained his attempts to coax Elanor into her first word. Frodo laughed heartily, and Ellie smiled at him.  
  
"I don't think Ellie-lass is ready to say her first words *just* yet, Sam, but I'm sure she will soon, I wouldn't worry." Sam didn't look convinced, but shook his head in resignation. As the four hobbits walked into the kitchen for tea, Elanor up at Frodo and took his hand. She mouthed something, looked disappointed and tried again. Frodo looked at her intently. Rosie bent down and smiled encouragingly, and Sam beamed.  
  
"What is it Ellie?" He asked. The little Gamgee scrunched up her face in thought. Then, turning to face her uncle, she brought shocked looks onto her parents' faces when she finally spoke.  
  
"Unka Fwodo!" She beamed. Sam nearly fainted. Rosie clapped, and Frodo took the little girl in his arms lovingly.  
  
"This is what we fought for," he thought to himself, smiling at the golden haired lass.  
  
Cooked with Love  
  
Bilbo watched in trepidation as his nephew eyed the food curiously. This was the first big meal he had cooked for the lad since he moved into Bag End, he wanted it to be perfect.  
  
He had prepared all of Frodo's favorite foods: stuffed mushrooms, mashed potatoes, strawberries in fresh cream, and a big, juicy roast chicken. The boy smiled at the grand spread in from of him, and began to cut a large piece of chicken for himself. He put it in his mouth in chewed thoughtfully.  
  
"If it's not any good, I could get you something else to eat...I'm not used to much cooking of this sort..." Bilbo rambled nervously.  
  
Frodo laughed, and flashed the old hobbit his sunny smile.  
  
"It's wonderful, Uncle Bilbo. In fact, I think this may be the best chicken I have ever had." Bilbo felt silently relieved, and sat down next to his nephew, smiling too.  
  
"I'm so glad, my lad. Just be sure not to tell your Auntie Esme that!" The two hobbits chuckled, and began to enjoy their beautiful supper for two, together.  
  
Frodo-lad  
  
It was the first night of Yule, and all was silent and peaceful in Bag End. Frodo was cleaning up the remains of the small gathering he had just had with Merry, Pippin, Fatty, and Estella; and marveling at the amount of food his cousins had consumed in one sitting. He was just about done, when a knock sounded at the door. It was, much to Frodo's surprise, Sam's sister Goldie Cotton. She looked worried, and Frodo quickly let her inside.  
  
"Goldie! What a surprise! What's the matter, love?" He asked gently, as she shed her thick winter garments and shook snow out of her red-gold hair. Goldie bit her lip, and sighed.  
  
"It's Rosie, Mr. Frodo. She's gone into labor, and she's quite poorly. I was stopping in for Yule with Tom and little Bell, and Sam was in a right state. Ellie is with my lass at her grandparent's house, and the others are all in Bywater. Tom left to get whatever he could to help, and Sam desperately wanted you to come," she finished breathlessly. "We don't know how much long Rosie has." Frodo's face blanched, and he hugged Goldie tightly.  
  
"Come on then, there's no time to waste," he said, helping her up with a set face.  
  
The two hobbits reached Bagshot Row quickly, and were greeted by a rumpled, tired, Sam standing at the door. Frodo took his hands and squeezed them gently, and Goldie gave him a kiss on the cheek.  
  
"Everything will be all right, now. Mr. Frodo's here." Sam just shook his head and sighed, leading the duo to Rosie's small room.  
  
They spent what seemed like an Age there, Goldie helping with the midwifery while Frodo soothed Rosie with kind words, and Sam kissed her fevered brow. It was a long labor, but finally, at long last, the newest Gamgee arrived slightly past midnight.  
  
Rosie smiled placidly with relief, as she took her new little boy in her arms. His head was covered in dark curls and his eyes were large, and shockingly blue. She kissed a chubby, pale cheek gently and grinned.  
  
"He's perfect" whispered Sam. Frodo and Goldie smiled at each other as they watched the new parents coo over their baby. Rosie beckoned them over, and both took cautious steps toward the bed.  
  
"What are you naming him?" Asked Frodo gently. Sam smiled as his wife spoke.  
  
"Just look at those eyes, Mr. Frodo. What else could we do but name the little one after you?" Rosie said, as she handed the bundle to its namesake. Frodo just smiled blissfully, tears welling in his eyes.  
  
"Happy Yule, Frodo-lad," he whispered softly.  
  
By the Sea  
  
"What are you up to, my dear boy?" Gandalf asked one morning as he sat down near Frodo on a white sand dune. The hobbit had created quite a set-up for himself. A small easel had been erected for him, just his size, a clean white canvas was on top of it, along with the finest brushes in many sizes. Next to him Gandalf noticed beautiful elvish paints in hues even he had never seen, and a tiny mixing board which Frodo picked up and began to dab with paints. He turned to the wizard and smiled.  
  
"I'm painting, of course!" He said simply, blending two colors together on his tray, before touching them to the canvas in a gentle swirl. Gandalf smiled.  
  
"I see. Where did you get all these supplies, I wonder?" The wizard asked, eyes twinkling, as he watched Frodo paint happily, spots of blue and green already flecking his dark hair and pale face.  
  
"They're from the Lady Celebrian," Frodo said softly. "She told me she took up painting after arriving here and it helped her greatly...and that if I wanted, she would give me some of her old things."  
  
"That was very kind of her," Gandalf murmured, as he watched Frodo continue his painting peacefully. Soon he had finished, and showed it to Gandalf proudly.  
  
Frodo had painted a glorious seascape, with flowing silver-blue waves and white-golden sands. For a beginner, he showed great skill in capturing the beauty of Valinor. Gandalf smiled.  
  
"It's wonderful, Frodo," he said, placing a hand on the tiny artist's shoulder. Frodo beamed from ear to ear, and Gandalf felt peace inwardly to see him so happy and free of pain.  
  
"I'm going to show Lady Celebrian now," Frodo said happily. "She requested to see the painting when it was finished." Gandalf nodded, and Frodo hurried off with his canvas, kicking up some white sand with his feet along the way.  
  
Gandalf couldn't help beaming as he watched him go, and noticed, with amusement, that his own robes were flecked with sea-colored paint.  
  
Beautiful Bird  
  
Bilbo was asleep, and he was dreaming. Dreaming about her.  
  
He remembered the first time he held her, although he had only been a tiny lad at the time. Uncle Gorbadoc and Auntie Mira had told him her name was Dodinas, or Dodi for short. She was small and pale, and Bilbo was afraid he would break her.  
  
As Dodi grew she never lost her translucency. She was sick in bed most days, it seemed, but Bilbo would go to Brandy Hall and visit her as often as he could. He brought her flowers and toys, and books, which she loved most of all. She would devour them, and Bilbo was sure after a time that she had finished almost the entire library.  
  
By the time he was a teen he knew he loved her. He loved her more than he had ever loved anyone in his entire life, and she loved him back. They never spoke of it, really, but the knowledge was there, all the same.  
  
This didn't slip by Bilbo's family, and if she had been any other lass, the matron aunts and cousins would have clucked their tongues and begin to talk of the wedding, however far it was the future. But Dodi was slipping away. They all knew it, and Bilbo sometimes wondered if she got tired of the pitying looks, day after day, from everyone who saw her. He never gave her those looks.  
  
Bilbo was dreaming, and he was awakened by a soft hand, suddenly remembering where he was.  
  
"Mum?" He asked softly. Belladonna hugged her son tightly, and suddenly he knew.  
  
"She's gone, dearest. I'm so sorry." Bilbo simply stared, blank. Shock turned to rage and denial.  
  
"SHE CAN'T BE GONE!" He cried. "She was doing so much better, mum, she was going to go camping with us in the spring, remember? And---and she wasn't ill this winter like usual. The healers said---"  
  
"Hush, love," Belladonna soothed. "I'm here." Bilbo tried to blink back the tears, but they wouldn't stop. He fell into his mother's arms and sobbed like a lad half his age.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
He still brings flowers to her grave every year. Primula goes with him, honoring the elder sister she never knew. She has a little boy now, Frodo. He looks so much like Dodi; it breaks Bilbo's heart to see him, but heals it at the same time.  
  
Bilbo sometimes tells Primula about her, about her wonderful laugh and how bright and clever she was. How she would make Yule presents for everyone each year, regardless of her illness. About her singing voice that would soar out of her weak body like a beautiful bird.  
  
Somewhere, he hopes she is truly free. 


End file.
